


Bitch

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [71]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bestiality, Bottom Derek Hale, Breeding, Coming Untouched, Dom Stiles Stilinski, Dom/sub Undertones, Human Derek Hale, Knotting, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sloppy Makeouts, Sub Derek Hale, The Author Regrets Nothing, Threesome - M/M/Other, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25470145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: Derek plays bitch for his and Stiles' dogs.
Relationships: Derek Hale/OMD, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [71]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/887604
Comments: 30
Kudos: 336
Collections: Teen Wolf ▶ Derek Hale / Stiles Stilinski





	Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER:** As always, I don't condone things like this happening in real life. This is pure make-believe. Any negative comments that aren't constructive criticism will be deleted. Otherwise, enjoy!
> 
> Also, I have no idea how pet adoption works, so for the purposes of this PWP, let's pretend it's this easy, shall we?

Derek can pinpoint exactly when it started.

His family were dog people, and they had several dogs of different breeds and sizes all throughout his childhood. He loved roughhousing with them any chance he got. He doesn't recall there being anything wrong about those interactions for a long time, but then he entered adolescence and everything changed. All it took to make him horny was a light breeze on his skin, so he found himself getting hard over the oddest things and at the most inconvenient times.

One of those times was while he was playing with the dogs in the backyard.

It was all typical, throwing balls for them to chase, playing tug of war, scratching behind their ears. Then it happened. Herc—short for Hercules—the biggest dog they owned at that time, got a bit too rambunctious and tipped Derek over onto his back. Derek took a while to find his bearings again and didn't try to stop Herc from standing over him and licking messily all over his face, getting slobber everywhere. By the time Derek realised the reaction his body had to all of this, Herc had got off him and chased after one of the other dogs, leaving his owner lying in the grass with an erection.

Derek remembers being mortified, but luckily he was home alone that afternoon. No one was witness to his newfound depravity.

He was careful after that, still playing with the dogs but not as enthusiastically, not getting the dogs so worked up. He resisted because it was wrong.

Sick.

Disgusting.

Even with his efforts, though, it didn't take long for Derek to begin indulging. It was only in his head, so he wasn't hurting anyone. He'd lie in bed at night, the house silent, and his mind would wander, leading him to places he swore he wouldn't go. The first time he jerked off to thoughts of Herc on top of him again, he came so hard he nearly blacked out—and he _did_ bite through his lip trying to keep his moans inside.

After that, it was a near-nightly occurrence, and he was lost to his depraved imagination. The one thing he didn't do was act on his desires. That was a bridge he was unwilling to cross, especially with the beloved family dogs. (A voice in his head whispered another reason to him—the male dogs were all fixed anyway, so it wouldn't really be the same.)

For years after he turned eighteen and left home, moving into his own house, he continued to stick to his fantasies of himself down on his hands and knees, servicing stud after stud. He couldn't help himself from turning to stare if he ever saw a particularly good-looking male dog in public, adding another specimen to the long line in his fantasies. The bigger, the better. His eyes lingered for far too long to go unnoticed, and he got more than one weird look if it occurred while he was out with friends. No one ever seemed to put two and two together, though, so he was safe.

When Derek met Stiles, he thought he could put it all behind him. Mostly, anyway.

Their first few dates were a whirlwind, one after another in quick succession, until they decided to make things official. Stiles eventually moved in with Derek, and Derek pushed his wants to the back of his brain—and if he imagined he was getting mounted by a dog when Stiles fucked him from behind, who would know?

* * *

Now, Derek gets home from work one day, tired from seemingly endless meetings and bickering with incompetent co-workers who can't seem to file paperwork correctly no matter how many times Derek explains the system to them. He's ready for an evening of relaxation with Stiles, cuddling on the sofa with a beer or two and maybe making love later. As he kicks off his shoes and loosens his tie in the foyer, though, he hears the unmistakable clacking of claws on the hardwood floors. He waits, his lungs frozen, as the sound gets louder, and then he has a German Shepherd running toward him.

Derek's first thought, even before the confusion comes, is that the dog is beautiful, its fur a mixture of reddish-brown and black and its eyes bright and filled with excitement as it dashes over to meet him. His second thought is that, fuck, it's probably the biggest dog of that breed he's ever seen. It could've probably given a Great Dane a run for its money.

When the dog finally reaches him, it spins in a circle a couple times before rising up on its hind legs and pawing at Derek's chest, its tail wagging so fast it's practically a blur.

"You're home," Derek hears just as he begins to tentatively pet the animal. He looks away from it and sees Stiles enter the foyer in grey sweats and a shirt that's too big on him—one of Derek's, then.

"Yeah," Derek says, just as the dog gets back down and sniffs at his shoes.

Stiles scratches sheepishly at the back of his neck. "So, you're probably wondering what's going on…"

"You could say that."

"Well, Scott had a bunch of rescue dogs brought into the clinic today—police bust or something—and there were too many for them to keep there," Stiles explains, his lips curling up into a hopeful smile.

Derek can guess how the rest of the story went. "So he called you."

"Basically."

"And you didn't think about talking to me first?"

Stiles' eyes widen with panic and he comes closer, insinuating himself between Derek and the dog. "I was gonna call you during your lunch break, but…I kinda forgot."

"You forgot," Derek deadpans.

"I got caught up playing with him," Stiles excuses. He crouches down and grabs the dog's head, angling it up at Derek. "You try saying no to this face!"

"What's his name?" Derek asks after releasing a sigh, caving because Stiles is right. He can't say no—especially when he has Stiles' own puppy eyes to contend with too.

"Yes!" Stiles leaps to his feet and kisses Derek. "His name's Shadow. We can either keep him permanently or just until there's more room at the clinic. Personally, I vote for the former."

Derek arches a judgmental eyebrow but can't prevent the corners of his mouth from twitching. "Do you now?"

"Uh-huh. I've already spent a few hours with him, and he's super energetic but also pretty chill—and for a place that was keeping him and the other dogs in shitty conditions, they actually managed to train him pretty well."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Watch."

Stiles puts Shadow through his paces, commanding him to sit, lie down, shake hands, and roll over, and Shadow does it all. Derek's gaze catches on Shadow's junk on the latter command—his balls are large and intact.

When he's done, Stiles pats Shadow on the head and his countenance is smug. "See?"

Unwilling to commit entirely just yet, Derek settles for a compromise. "How about this: we'll keep him until Scott has more room, see how it goes—" He holds up a hand when Stiles opens his mouth to interject. "—and if it goes well and Shadow seems like he's a good fit, we'll keep him. Deal?"

Stiles wears a very impressive pout, but he's unable to refute the logic of Derek's argument. "Fine. Deal."

"Have you got stuff for him?"

"Not everything, but Scott gave me a few things like some food and a leash," Stiles answers, pointing to the row of hooks on the wall. Derek follows his finger and spots a red leash hanging from the hook closest to the door. "We can go to the pet store and get some more stuff tomorrow, or I can go by myself if you don't wanna come with. This guy deserves a super comfy doggy bed." Stiles crouches down again and cradles Shadow's head, cooing at him. "Don't you, boy? Yes, you do!"

Derek holds in a groan. He can already see that Stiles has fallen in love with the dog, which means that, if Shadow doesn't turn out to actually be a total disaster, this arrangement is already permanent.

It's going to make keeping his secret that much harder.

* * *

Derek was right.

A week after he arrived, Shadow's stay is made permanent, and he's not the only dog. When they bring Shadow into Scott's veterinary clinic to have him chipped, Stiles visits the rest of the animals there and swiftly becomes enamoured with an unnamed husky that no one else has scooped up yet. Because Stiles has a bleeding heart and Derek continues to have trouble saying no, they come home with two dogs instead of one. Stiles names the husky—also male and unfixed, because of course he is—after his favourite god of mischief, Loki.

"This is great," Stiles comments that evening, shuffling closer to Derek on the sofa.

A fire is going strong in the fireplace in front of them, and the first _Avengers_ movie plays on the TV above in celebration of their newest family member.

Derek wraps an arm around his lover's shoulders to pull them flush together. "What is?"

"This. Isn't this cozy?" Stiles gestures to his left, where Shadow and Loki lie together in two doggy beds.

"I guess."

"Grumpy as ever." Stiles chuckles. "Never change, Der-bear."

Everything is fine for a while after that, until Shadow rises from his bed with a stretch and a yawn right near the ending of the movie. The dog draws Derek's focus—superhero movies have never been his favourite, so he wasn't paying much attention to the TV anyway—and he observes as Shadow contemplates what to do now that he's awake again. The German Shepherd ends up staring back at him, and then he trots over to the sofa, squeezing into the space between it and the coffee table.

"Hey, boy," Stiles greets, leaning forward to give him some fuss.

Derek looks away for a moment, only to turn back to Shadow when the dog lays his head on his knee.

"What d'you want?" he asks him, as if Shadow can reply.

"Maybe he wants to go out."

"Maybe…"

Before he can get up, Shadow sticks his nose right in Derek's crotch without warning. Derek goes rigid with shock, a good excuse at first, but he still doesn't push Shadow away from him once the shock has worn off. He knows this is a natural thing for a dog to do and he should simply brush it off and act as unaffected as he's supposed to be, but it gives him a thrill—this is the closest he's been to a dog since he moved out of his family's house years ago, and having Shadow snuffling into the crotch of his jeans like he's smelling something good has his dick taking interest in its confines.

 _Fuck…no. Not here. Not now,_ Derek thinks, dreading Stiles' reaction.

But Stiles says nothing. He does nothing for several long seconds that feel like hours to Derek, and then all he does is pet Shadow's head again.

Derek gulps. He has to make a concerted effort not to spread his legs to create more space when Shadow briefly brings his tongue into play, licking over rough denim before getting bored and going back to his bed. He keeps his eyes open, though, staring right back at Derek like he knows exactly the reaction he caused.

Stiles shifts next to him and drapes an arm across Derek's stomach. "Huh."

Derek waits for more, some sort of censure, but it doesn't come. The younger man doesn't make another sound, just goes back to watching the final act of the movie.

Well.

What's Derek supposed to do with that? Is the cat out of the bag? Or has Stiles written it off as something innocent?

There's nothing for Derek to do but carry on as if everything's okay and he's not freaking out inside.

* * *

Derek finds out the answers to his questions later that night, as he and Stiles are getting ready for bed.

Entering the master bedroom, he kicks the door to behind himself and strips out of his henley and jeans. He drapes both garments over his arm on his way to the en suite bathroom and deposits them and his boxer-briefs in the laundry hamper, making a mental note to empty it the next day because it's getting full. He hears Stiles shuffling around in the bedroom as he grabs his toothbrush and begins brushing his teeth, looking at his reflection in the medicine cabinet above the sink.

Then he startles.

Something cold and wet nudges at his naked ass.

Daring to look back over his shoulder, he finds that it's Shadow getting fresh. Again. The dog seems unbothered that he's making his new master uncomfortable, just sniffs at Derek's ass before shoving his snout between his cheeks. Derek drops his toothbrush in the sink with a clatter and curls his fingers around the edge, automatically bending at the waist a bit to give Shadow easier access.

Stiles is right outside, but once again Derek can't bring himself to do anything to deter the dog. All he can do is bow his head in shame as he feels Shadow's wet nose touch his hole and a frisson of pleasure goes through him, his cock beginning to fill with blood.

"I knew it!"

Whipping his head around to the doorway, Derek clenches his jaw to keep from crying. Stiles leans against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest.

"You like it," the other man says—a statement, not a question. "You're turned on by our boys."

"N-no—" Derek attempts to deny, but he cuts himself off with a quiet moan because that's the moment Shadow decides to lick his rim for the first time.

Fucking dog.

"No use lying now, Der-bear," Stiles tells him, face inscrutable as he closes the distance between them.

Shadow doesn't stop, just keeps licking, that strong, dexterous tongue sliding all around Derek's hole, getting it wet and sloppy with slobber.

Stiles stares. "You like this," he repeats.

"No…"

"Tell the truth." Stiles grips Derek's chin in a strong hand and forces him to look at him. "Say it."

Derek whimpers. "I…I like it…" he admits, the blood not in his cock rushing to his face.

"Have you been fucking Shadow while I'm out of the house all week?" Stiles asks sternly, still not giving anything away.

"No!" Derek shakes his head ardently. "I haven't, I swear!"

"Hmm…I believe you. Have you done this with another dog before, then? I know your family had lots."

"No," Derek repeats.

"But you wanted to."

Derek wants to say no a third time, but what's the use? Stiles has already caught him red-handed. "Yes…"

When Stiles releases Derek's face, he fears that's it. It's over. The disgust is going to appear any second now and Stiles is going to pack up his things and take the dogs with him when he leaves. He might even tell other people about his sicko ex-boyfriend, and Derek will have to move to get away from the ignominy.

But no. Stiles is nothing if not unpredictable. Instead, he presses a hand between Derek's shoulder blades and pushes him down, forcing him to bend over further at the waist.

"What're you doing?" Derek asks breathlessly.

Stiles hums and uses his other hand to grab one of Derek's ass cheeks and pull it to the side. "Isn't it obvious? I'm helping Shadow get at that slutty little hole of yours."

Wait. What?

"You're…you don't hate me?" Derek manages to choke out. It's tough, though, seeing as Shadow is licking over his rim with renewed vigour.

"Does it feel like I hate you?" Stiles rubs his crotch against him, and…no, it can't be. Stiles is actually hard.

Derek gapes. "You're okay with this?"

"Yup. It's so fucking hot, baby," Stiles croons, lowering himself to his knees to get a better view. "You're a total bitch, aren't you? Just begging for doggy cock like you can't live without it."

"Stiles…"

"He loves it too, Der. You can feel it, right? How much Shadow loves tasting his bitch's little hole—your cunt."

Derek shuts his eyes tight and groans. This roleplay is something Derek never thought of, and it just sends him spiralling further down into hell. He arches his back without thinking about it, pushing back against Shadow's wonderful tongue. He wants it. He needs it, needs to feel it inside him, to get down on his hands and knees and feel Shadow draped over his back and his doggy dick deep in his hole, claiming him and making his belly swell with puppies.

Fuck. It's so good.

Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles chooses then to shoo Shadow away from him. "C'mon, we're moving this into the bedroom."

Derek rights himself, tamping down his disappointment, and follows on shaky legs, Shadow sticking to his side the whole way. Loki is already in the bedroom, lying down over the foot of their king-size bed. He raises his head as his brother and owners enter.

"Maybe Loki'll be interested in making you his bitch too," Stiles says idly, stopping and turning to face Derek.

Derek can't respond, just stands there with his cock hard and leaking pre-come, cheeks flushed.

Stiles walks back over to him and cradles his face, his expression turning sincere and concerned instead of mischievous. "Are you okay doing more of this tonight?" he asks, checking in. "I really wanna keep going with this roleplay, see you fulfil your role as the pack bitch, but we can put a pin in it for now if you're not ready yet."

Gratitude has Derek's chest feeling warm—Stiles is always so good to him—but he shakes his head. "No, I'm fine doing this," he assures. "I want it."

"Alright. If I do something you don't like, tell me."

Stiles kisses his forehead, and when he releases him and steps back, the concern is gone, replaced once again by mischievousness and a sort of dominant strength that has Derek sure he'd do anything Stiles told him to without hesitation. He proves it when Stiles tells him to get down on the floor and he immediately does so, tilting his head back so he can keep looking at his lover's—no, his master's—face.

Stiles scratches behind Derek's ear and murmurs, "Good boy."

Derek's toes curl.

"Loki, come here, boy!" Stiles calls then, adding a short whistle on the end that has the husky scrambling off of the bed. He gives Loki a bit of fuss before taking his collar and leading him over to Derek so they're face-to-face.

Derek takes a shaky breath. "Stiles…"

Said man tsks him. "Shh. Dogs don't talk," he reprimands.

Derek snaps his mouth shut, but that doesn't satisfy Stiles either.

"Don't be like that, Derek," Stiles says. He fists his hand in the hair on the back of Derek's head, tight enough to hold him in place but not cause pain. "Don't you want to give your mate a kiss?"

Derek's eyes widen as he processes the question, and then he timidly moves forward and places a chaste kiss right on Loki's nose.

Stiles sighs, disappointed. The sound makes Derek's chest ache—he has to do better. "A proper kiss," Stiles says. "You don't want Loki to feel like you don't love him, right?"

Can he do this? Derek contemplates whether or not he's already ready to tap out, but he doesn't want to make Stiles disappointed in him again. And he's so close to getting exactly what he's wanted for over a decade now, so no, he can't put a stop to things. He enjoyed when Hercules slobbered all over him in the backyard of his childhood home, so 'kissing' Loki now can't be all that bad.

Mind made up, Derek makes another attempt at it. Loki stands there with his tongue lolling out, panting with happiness, which makes it easy for Derek to lick into the dog's mouth. Loki recoils at first, surprised, but Stiles keeps a firm hold on his collar so he can't go anywhere. Loki still seems confused when Derek does it again, but he stays still and—thank god—doesn't bite Derek's tongue off.

Derek looks up at Stiles through his eyelashes and is pleased to see a proud smirk curling his lips. He did good. He made his master happy, and that's worth everything. Apparently, he's got one hell of a praise kink too, although maybe it's just because of the new headspace he's rapidly sinking into: the mindset of a bitch, whose greatest desire is to please his mate or master.

In this case, both.

"There's a good boy," Stiles coos, ruffling Derek's hair.

All this time, Derek lost track of where Shadow was, so he's stunned when there comes a weight on his back and something hard poking his ass cheek.

"Shadow, no!" Stiles exclaims, rushing over to pull the German Shepherd off of Derek. "Not yet, boy."

Shadow growls his vehement disapproval, but the sound tapers off into a whine when Stiles drags him away from his target. Derek is grateful—despite the roleplay, he doesn't want to get mounted with no lube or prep, thank you very much.

Ceasing sliding his tongue along Loki's, Derek peers behind himself to find Shadow sitting on his haunches with his puppy eyes out in full force—and that's not the only thing that's out. Scanning his eyes further down, Derek's breath hitches when he sees that the tip of Shadow's cock has emerged from his sheath. That must've been the hardness he felt poking him. His mouth fills with saliva as he thinks of crawling over and putting his mouth on it. He stays in place, though, because Stiles hasn't told him he can move. But God how he wants to.

"I need to prepare your bitch first, boy," Stiles says, finishing his scolding. He gives Shadow a few good scritches before walking over to the nightstand on Derek's side of the bed and opening the top draw. He comes back with their half-empty bottle of lube in hand and a gleam in his cinnamon eyes.

"Stay there," he tells Derek as he kneels behind him. "Keep making out with Loki while I get you ready for Shadow to breed you."

Breed. Fuck. That word has a big drop of pre-come leaking from the tip of his cock, adding to the pool that's gradually spreading on the hardwood.

Derek turns back to Loki. The husky remains right in front of him, sitting now. Unfortunately, he's not showing pink yet, so Derek busies himself with getting another taste of Loki's doggy tongue. The gross, slightly meaty taste is actually quite addictive.

Meanwhile, Stiles doesn't take his time fingering Derek open like he usually does when they're making love. He's quick and efficient, almost clinical, because this isn't about love or their relationship or wanting to make each other feel good. This is about Stiles ensuring Derek doesn't get hurt and nothing else.

One finger swiftly becomes two, scissoring apart, then Stiles slips a third inside. Once Derek is able to take his pinky without pain, he withdraws them all.

"Okay, all done." Derek hears Stiles stand up and whistle for Shadow to come back over. "Now you can mount your bitch, boy. C'mon."

Derek is prepared this time. He gives Loki one final lick and then grunts when Shadow's weight reappears, sharp claws scrabbling over his sides as the German Shepherd tries to get a good grip. The poking is back too, starting and stopping several times as Shadow searches for the warm hole that awaits him.

"Here."

Derek can't see, but he feels Stiles' arm brush against the back of his thigh and guesses that he's helping Shadow find his goal. A second later, the tapered tip of Shadow's cock finds its mark, and then Shadow brutally thrusts all the way in in one go. Derek throws his head back and cries out at the abrupt invasion. Even with Stiles' prep, it's a lot to take. Shadow is apparently very well endowed, which makes sense seeing as he's such a big dog. It doesn't help that Shadow doesn't give him any time to adjust. Instead, he starts thrusting hard from the get-go, abusing Derek's poor hole.

"There you go." Stiles come back around to Derek's front and runs his fingers through Derek's hair with a smile. "Does that feel good, bitch? Your stud's big cock breeding you up nice?"

Derek can only whimper and hang on for dear life.

"Yeah, you needed this, didn't you?" Stiles goes on, still petting him like he's really a dog. "You're gonna be very busy from now on, I think, what with two studs to take care of. Your hole's always gonna gape and drip with doggy come. I think I'll have to make you wear a plug when you're not servicing your studs, Der-bear, keep all that come inside so it has a higher chance of taking."

Stiles' dirty talk is what brings Derek around to thoroughly enjoying it. The pain lessening helps too, until he finds himself moaning nearly continuously. It's one of the best fucks he's ever had— _sorry, Stiles,_ he apologises in his head—living up to every fantasy. He doesn't even have time to miss Shadow's cock before it's back again. His own junk swings wildly between his legs with how fast Shadow is fucking him, practically jackhammering into him with the aggression and speed only an animal could manage. There's nothing like this. Sex is ruined for him now. It's like this is where he was always meant to be, beneath a big dog, taking it like a good bitch should.

Cracking open eyes he hadn't realised he closed, Derek sees Loki watching him get bred by his brother. The husky still isn't showing pink, even though Derek thinks he should understand by now what's happening. Loki should be clamouring for his own turn with the pack bitch, but that doesn't seem to be what's on Loki's mind.

No, instead, Loki rises to all four paws and turns around. Because his tail is always curled up in the air, touching the lower end of his back, Derek is met by Loki's doggy asshole.

Oh.

Maybe it's stupid to think, but Derek can't help it. Is Loki showing him this on purpose? Does he want Derek to—

No, surely not.

"Guess he's not much of a stud, after all," Stiles observes from next to him, amazement in his voice.

Derek gasps out a, "W-what?" forgetting that he's not supposed to speak. Stiles doesn't scold him, though, just grins wide, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Looks like Loki's wants to be serviced in a different way," Stiles surmises. "Go on. Don't leave him hanging."

Derek returns his gaze to Loki's hindquarters. He spares a few seconds to admire the husky's balls hanging between his hind legs, furry and filled with doggy come, and then he puts his attention back on Loki's hole. It's pink and puckered, surrounded by white fur. It doesn't look dirty, but Derek knows that Stiles didn't have time to clean it or anything after letting both dogs out to do their business just before they came upstairs to get ready for bed. It's another mental hurdle to overcome, but Derek is already here, on his knees getting reamed by Shadow, so fuck it, he'll give it a go.

In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying goes.

His first lick is cautious—or as cautious as he can make it while still getting bred. He expects a very unpleasant taste to hit his taste buds, but that's not the case. It's not what he's used to from rimming Stiles, but it's not horrible. With another, firmer lick, Derek gets something salty and bitter, musky and unmistakably _unclean_ , but it's not enough to discourage him from going all in and eating Loki out like he's a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. The sensation of the silky fur surrounding Loki's hole rubbing over his face is delightful.

"Oh yeah, he really likes that," Stiles says gleefully. "His cock's coming out of his sheath now. He's already dripping."

Stiles interrupts Derek's ministrations with a couple fingers. Derek blinks bemusedly before noticing the clear fluid on the digits. Must be Loki's pre-come. Eagerly opening his mouth, Derek takes both fingers inside and makes a sound of ecstasy when Stiles rubs them over his tongue, ensuring he gets a good taste. It mixes with the aftertaste of Loki's hole to create something better than both would be on their own.

Without warning, Shadow's thrusts get impossibly more violent, and Derek instantly knows why—he's trying to knot him.

"Relax, sweetheart," Stiles comforts as the misshapen knot batters against Derek's already stretched rim. "Just let it happen."

Trapped as he is, Derek doesn't think there's anything he could do to get Shadow to stop, even if he wanted him to. So all he can do is comply.

All too soon, Derek's hole is pushed to its limit as Shadow forces his knot past it, effectively tying them together. Derek screams at the bright flash of pain that wracks through him, digging his blunt nails into the floor, and then he breathes as the pain recedes and he gets used to the new stretch. It seems impossible that he's fit something so big inside his ass, but here he is, taking it and not-so-secretly loving it. He clenches down around Shadow's knot with a soft groan. It presses inexorably right up against his prostate, and as Derek repeatedly clenches around it, milking Shadow for all he's worth, Derek feels the familiar tingling in his gut that foretells of an orgasm of his own.

"Can you come untouched?" Stiles queries.

Derek doesn't know—he never has before, but he's going to try. He's so worked up that he just might.

Sure enough, as Shadow picks his weight up off of Derek's back and turns them ass-to-ass, it jostles his knot enough that Derek tips over the edge, his cock spurting all over the floor beneath him.

"Good boy!" Stiles cries proudly. He rubs a hand up and down Derek's back as he comes down from his high, his arms shaking as he barely keeps himself up.

"Now that you're taken care of, you should finish taking care of Loki," Stiles says. He uses his index finger to silently get the husky to roll over onto his back. Loki's hind legs end up spread right in front of Derek, giving both humans a great view of his hole, balls and thin cock. The latter is blood-red, with pink spiderweb veins all over it that are strangely enticing.

Stiles taps Derek's shoulder. "Go on."

Still slightly floaty, Derek reaches for Loki's cock. He wraps his hand around the knot at the base and angles it up so he can really admire it. As soon as he makes contact with it, more pre-come spurts from the tapered tip, landing in Loki's belly fur. Derek can't bear the thought of wasting any more of it, so he gets his lips around the shaft and bobs his head up and down, eyelids fluttering when more pre-come hits his tongue.

It doesn't take very long for him to set off Loki's orgasm. A hard suck here, a squeeze of the knot there, and Loki is done, whining and panting on the floor as he fills Derek's mouth with his seed.

It's a lot. Derek has to swallow fast to prevent himself from choking or spilling any, and he has to do it several times before it's over. He's gifted a few more weak spurts, and then Loki wriggles away from him and flops down on his side next to the bed to lick his cock clean himself. Derek stares, a bit lost and gormless, and only stops because Shadow chooses then to try and tug his knot out of his hole.

"Push out," Stiles orders, situating himself where they're connected to oversee their separation.

Derek does so, and a few tugs later, Shadow yanks himself out of his bitch with a growl. He joins Loki in cleaning himself off, while Derek falls down into his own mess, suddenly tired. He can feel Shadow's load already leaking from his thoroughly used hole and clenches it tight in an effort to keep it inside like Stiles said earlier, but he's unsuccessful. He can't muster the energy to keep it clenched for longer than a few seconds, so it seems like this is a battle he won't win.

Ever on the same wavelength, though, Stiles comes to his rescue. He produces one of their butt plugs from nowhere—their biggest one—and gently slides it into Derek's body. "There you go. That'll keep all that nice come inside where it belongs."

That done, Stiles assists Derek off of the floor and into bed, uncaring of the mess smeared on his stomach and down his thighs. His eyes are already closing by the time his head hits the pillow. "What about you?" he manages to croak out.

"I'm more than satisfied, baby," Stiles responds. "Don't worry about me."

Cracking one eye open again, Derek is relieved to see that it's true. Stiles' cock is soft—when did he get naked?—and he has a bit of his own come on the inside of his thigh.

"Oh. Okay…"

Stiles slips in next to him soon enough—and from the weight on the foot of the bed, Loki and Shadow join them—and before he falls asleep, Derek allows Stiles to draw him into his arms and hold him.

"You were perfect," Stiles whispers into Derek's ear.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We're definitely doing that again."

" 'K."

A few deep breaths later, Derek's out, happy that he no longer has to hide the darkest part of himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sick in the head (and I frankly don't care)…
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little piece of depravity. I've written a couple other PWPs featuring bestiality, which can both be found in the same series, but both of them focused on Stiles being mounted. I felt that wasn't fair. It was long past time for Derek to have his turn as the main star of one of these naughty little things—and what a star he was! As always, I loved writing bottom!Derek, and the dirtiness and taboo of this only made it all the more thrilling for me. ;)
> 
> To reiterate, I don't condone things like this happening in real life. This was pure make-believe.
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, a season 1 AU in which Peter bites Stiles instead of Scott. They form their own pack with Derek, and Derek and Stiles show Peter how grateful they are by worshipping every inch of him while he's in his Alpha form.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future updates go live. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


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